November 20th, 2020

Today is 26 years since my life changed significantly and forever. It was November 20, 1994 when my fiance committed suicide in a one car accident. 

Although, I still remember the phone call that woke me from sleep on that Sunday evening, hearing the words that her aunt spoke to me, feeling my world fall away... it is true that time heals wounds. Or maybe more accurately, as I've read, time doesn't heal the wounds, but the passage of time allows the wounds to scab over.

As I've mentioned on the My Story page, I believe a significant portion of the pain we feel when we lose someone so close is due to the loss of the dream, the plans for a future that will never happen, that never did happen. That doesn't mean I didn't miss her; I did, I do. But with time I've been able to disentangle the complex emotions somewhat. And that helps the healing process.

We all grow and change - hopefully, anyway. I find it interesting when I think about the person I was then, the person she was, and the person I am today. The man I am today would not be interested in the woman she was at that time, at least not in the way I was back then. I'm certain I would still admire her and enjoy her company, but I do not believe we would be as compatible as it felt like we were then. 

Of course, she would have changed, too. Would we have grown at the same pace? Would we have changed in ways that kept us together, brought us closer, or created distance? I can only speculate about it.

I do occasionally allow myself to indulge a little fantasy. I envision streaks of grey in her black hair. And her face reveals that some of the years have been challenging. But her smile still warms my heart and her kindness still amazes me. It's an odd fantasy to imagine someone's future self. I like to think that even if we were no longer married, we would still be good friends. 

Life has gone on. And life continues to go on. On this date, I always take a few extra moments to think of her.